


Suit

by FandomTrash24601



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Based on a song, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, New Year's Day, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrash24601/pseuds/FandomTrash24601
Summary: Jim uses a New Year's party to confess his feelings to Spock, with a little bit of help from Nyota. Based on the song 'Dress' from Taylor Swift's album Reputation.





	Suit

Jim stood in front of the large mirror in his Starfleet assigned quarters and readjusted his suit. It wasn't the stiff, scratchy formal Starfleet uniform that he was wearing, but a finely tailored, lighter blue suit. He didn't think he'd ever looked as good as he did right then. But that wasn't what was on his mind.

What was on his mind was Spock.

Spock had been on his mind for almost two weeks, actually. Well, Jim thought of Spock often anyway, but he had been thinking of Spock more often than usual ever since Spock had agreed to be his plus one- his _date_ \- to the fancy New Year's party that Starfleet was throwing.

A knock sounded on the door, and Jim jumped. He approached the door and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before grabbing the handle and swinging it open. Spock stood on the other side, as expected. Jim was struck speechless for a moment.

Spock wore a vaguely shimmery suit that was such a dark green that it appeared almost black. It did something excellent for the subtle green of Spock's skin, and nothing good for Jim's concentration. It took Jim a moment to realize that he was supposed to say or do something.

"Spock!" He said, letting his face break into a wide smile.

"Jim," Spock said, voice sounding lower than usual in a way that made Jim's head spin and his stomach fill with butterflies.

"Are you ready to go?" Jim asked, shifting his stance and readjusting his grip on the door.

"I am," Spock replied. It may have just been the suit, but Jim could've sworn that Spock's cheeks were greener than usual, as if he were trying not to blush.

"Perfect," Jim blurted. "That's, uh, that's great. Let's go."

He stepped out into the hallway and swung the door shut behind him, but Spock didn't move back quite far enough. The end result was Jim being stuck between a door and a very attractive Vulcan. He could feel a blush begin to burn his cheeks. Spock stepped back, leaving Jim with mixed emotions. He wanted Spock close, but the space did help ease his flustered confusion. After what appeared to be a moment of consideration, Spock held out his arm.

Jim tried not to blush like a schoolgirl when he took Spock's arm in his. His stomach didn't get the memo, twisting wildly. They were just friends, Jim tried fiercely to remind himself. Friends who were attending a function as dates. Friends who, if all went as planned, would be more than friends within a few hours.

It took a moment for the elevator to arrive, and Jim was thankful that it was empty. He didn't need anyone seeing him like this until he could get himself under control. James Tiberius Kirk: Captain or Blushing Schoolgirl? He could see the headline if a reporter had been there.

When the elevator let them out onto the first floor, where the party was to be held, Jim was taken aback for a moment at the sheer elegance of everyone else on their way in. He felt wickedly transparent, and resisted the urge to shrink into Spock as if his first officer could act as a shield between Jim and the rest of the world.

He spotted Uhura and Scotty disappearing into the dining-room-turned-ballroom arm in arm and was suddenly overly conscious of his identical position with Spock. He knew that Uhura and Scotty had recently started dating, and the knowledge that he and Spock were in the same position as an actual couple was somewhat thrilling. Jim turned his head to speak more directly into Spock's ear so he could use a quieter voice.

"You don't have to, uh, escort me, I guess, if it makes you uncomfortable. This doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?"

Spock turned to him, and Jim thought he could possibly drown in Spock's eyes. They held a warmth that had always made Jim's knees go a little bit weak. When his lips curved upwards just the slightest bit, Jim had to fight hard not to lean in and kiss him.

"It does not make me uncomfortable, I assure you," Spock said. "You have no need to worry."

"Okay," Jim said, forcing his voice to stay normal. "Alright. Cool. Let's go in, then."

* * *

"Plus one?" Jim said, sounding dismayed. Bones looked up from his own invitation, eyebrows raised.

The two of them were sitting in Jim's quarters, and had been sipping liquor until the invitations had come in. They were about about two weeks out from Earth, and would be returning two days before the party, so they were kind of required to attend.

"Yeah, kid," he said. "That's generally how functions like this go. You know plus ones aren't mandatory, right?"

"It might as well be mandatory for me, Bones," Jim said. "I'm the captain. I can't just show up without a date!"

"You kind of can, though," Bones said, still puzzled.

"Who am I supposed to ask?" Jim said to nobody, gesticulating wildly, PADD in hand.

"Kid. Listen. You do not need to invite anyone as your plus one."

"I'm not dating anyone, how am I supposed to find a plus one?"

"Oh dear Lord," Bones muttered, and downed the rest of his liquor. Jim had gotten it into his head that plus ones were mandatory, which meant that there was little that Bones could do to convince him otherwise.

"Will you be my plus one, Bones?"

Bones choked mid-swallow, which he managed to turn into a coughing fit instead of spraying Jim. When he finally recovered, tears still in his eyes, he turned back to Jim.

"No," he replied. "Absolutely not."

"Who can I bring?" Jim asked, sounding distressed.

"I dunno," Bones said. "I'm not in your head. Uhura?"

"Like she'd even agree to it," Jim said, scoffing. "Besides, she's dating Scotty."

"How about Carol Marcus? You seem to like her well enough."

"Eh. I think she's dating someone."

Bones sighed and poured himself some more liquor while Jim thought. He was just raising it to his lips when Jim spoke.

"I could ask Spock to go."

Bones choked on his drink for the second time in as many minutes. When he was done wheezing, he turned a glare on Jim that was made no less intimidating by his watery eyes.

"God _dammit_ , Jim! D'you have to go and say things like that when I'm drinking?"

"Absolutely," Jim said cheerily. "It's a source of great pride. Now seriously, I could ask Spock. Should I?" Bones sighed and put his drink down, tossing his hands in the air.

"I'm not your mother, kid, no matter how much I may mother-hen you. If you wanna ask Spock and try to absolve that pathetic crush of yours, go ahead."

"It is not a 'pathetic crush,'" Jim said, scowling.

"Uh huh."

* * *

Despite the fact that Uhura and Scotty had entered soon before Jim and Spock, Jim couldn't find them. The room was bustling with some of the most skilled and/or elite in Starfleet, all in finery. The human women all seemed to wear long, elegant gowns, some with jewels that sparkled in the light from the chandeliers. Human men tended to wear fine cut suits, and those who were not human would wear either proper outfits from their own culture or more human outfits, like they'd become accustomed to due to the Starfleet uniforms.

The ceiling was high, and the chandeliers large. There were some scattered tables, and some chairs along the walls of the room, but the event seemed to be mainly one of mingling. A small orchestra was set up on the far side of the room, providing a soothing background music for the various conversations occurring. Jim spotted a large food and refreshments table along the right wall, and felt himself perk up a little.

Perhaps with a little liquid courage he'd be able to confess his feelings to Spock. He had a feeling that if he didn't, Uhura would find him and commit some unspeakable horror upon his person. She would be especially irate considering she had spent hours suit shopping with him, looking for a suit that Spock would like.

"Ah, Captain Kirk! Commander Spock!" A rather heavy man with balding red hair greeted, walking over to greet them. He looked fine in his dark suit, a brand that had no doubt cost a pretty penny.

"Admiral," Jim said, smiling.

The man in front of them was Admiral Thompson, one of Jim's favorite admirals. He was a brilliant diplomat who could spin almost any conversation to get what he wanted, and lucky for Jim, the two of them had fairly compatible views.

"Admiral," Spock greeted.

"I'm glad to see you here," the Admiral said.

"I'm glad to be here, sir."

"A lovely night, isn't it?" Admiral Thompson chuckled, gesturing to the balconies. He was already a little bit tipsy, it seemed, because he'd swayed a bit when gesturing to the balconies with a hand holding a nearly empty glass of something.

"Very," Jim agreed, despite not having been outside yet that day.

"Well, I must go, but it was a pleasure having a chat!"

"Indeed," Spock said, sounding both confused and wary. He was probably correct in being hesitant to engage drunken humans. They were remarkably impulsive and untrustworthy.

When Admiral Thompson departed, steps uneven, Spock looked over at Jim. He looked almost scandalized by the poor drunken human, and Jim almost wanted to laugh.

"Admiral Thompson was highly inebriated," Spock said. "What proof must the alcohol being offered be?"

"Pretty high, probably," Jim said. "I want some of whatever it is."

"Please do not leave me to bodily drag you from the event," Spock said, tone dry.

"Well," Jim said, and shot a devilish grin at Spock. "You won't have the common sense to drag me away if you're drunk, too."

"I do not plan on becoming inebriated myself," Spock said. "And the odds of me becoming inebriated by accident are approximately 0.408 percent."

"You seem to have forgotten our history with probabilities and how they don't particularly apply to us," Jim said teasingly.

Spock didn't respond, and Jim tugged on his arm to lead him to the table serving alcohol. The alcohol available seemed to be three different kinds of wine, and Jim selected the thick, dark red one for both him and Spock. When he handed a glass to Spock, he was given a skeptical eyebrow raise.

"The purpose of drinking isn't always to get drunk, y'know," Jim said. "Sometimes it's because the drink tastes good."

"I suppose," Spock said, and took a sip.

Jim had to force himself to look away before he got caught staring at Spock's mouth, and found himself staring at Uhura. She looked absolutely ravishing in a long, red dress, hair pulled up into a hairstyle elaborate enough to be Vulcan high fashion. Uhura smirked and winked before turning back to Scotty, who was engaged in a discussion with an old Andorian Commodore.

"I'm either firing her or giving her a promotion," Jim said.

"Of whom do you speak?" Spock asked, giving him what Jim could interpret as a mildly concerned look in the language of Spock’s facial expressions

"Uhura."

"For what reason?"

"I'm not sure if she's helping me or assisting in my downfall," Jim stated.

"...I see."

It was clear that Spock was still very confused, but he said nothing and took another sip of his wine. Jim took his arm and led him to a less trafficked part of the room to spare Spock contact with inebriated people of any race, not just humans.

"So how goes the science division?" Jim asked, looking out at the sea of people. He took his first sip of his wine and looked down at the glass appreciatively. It was a damn good wine, and its alcohol content wasn't too low.

"Captain, I sent you a monthly update three days ago."

"No ‘captain’," Jim said, grinning. "We're off duty. And besides, a lot can happen in three days."

"You want to discuss work, yet you insist on me calling you Jim."

"Okay, fine, so if you don't want to discuss work, what do you want to talk about?"

"Doctor Jeffrey Morton has recently published a scientific article about his research. For the past four years, he has studied star composition and species who have developed civilizations in those star systems."

"Oh yeah," Jim said. "Didn't he theorize that star composition could be linked to how a species would evolve?"

"Indeed." Spock was nerding out in his own quiet way, free hand fluttering as he talked and dark eyes bright with excitement. "It is quite a fascinating theory. I have considered extending an invitation for him to continue his study aboard the Enterprise, if that is acceptable with you."

"Oh, that's more than acceptable. I'd love to assist him in his research." Jim paused, and then grinned at Spock. "You realize you just brought that back to work, right?"

Spock opened his mouth as if to protest, and then shut it again. He had the cutest look on his face and Jim laughed, hand coming up to rest on Spock's shoulder.

"Do you have a topic that cannot be so easily tied back to work?" Spock asked, almost as if challenging Jim.

"You read," Jim said. "I know you do, I've seen books in your quarters. What do you read?"

"I have found Shakespeare most fascinating," Spock replied.

"Ah, Shakespeare," Jim sighed, nodding his approval. "In my opinion, one of the best writers that Earth has ever seen."

"You enjoy Shakespeare as well?" Spock asked, eyebrows rising.

"Enjoy? I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"Then what is your opinion on Shakespeare?" Spock asked, eyes glittering.

Jim's face split in a wide grin, and he launched into conversation.

* * *

"Spock!" Jim said, darting into the turbolift beside him before it could close. "Hey. I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Is this a work related issue?" Spock asked, turning his dark eyes on Jim. For a moment, he almost forgot what he was going to say. That was happening with alarming frequently recently.

"Not exactly?" Jim finally said. "I mean, sort of."

"What is your query?"

"So you know about that New Year's party that Starfleet is throwing?"

"I do."

"Do, uh," Jim said, stomach twisting with butterflies. "So about the whole plus one thing. Do you... do you have one?"

"I do not," Spock replied. "I was not aware that it was mandatory."

The turbolift stopped to let them out onto the deck with their rooms, and Jim followed Spock when he stepped out.

"Well, you see, it technically isn't," Jim said, walking quickly to keep up with Spock. "But it would be kind of weird if I didn't show up with _someone."_

"I do not follow your logic," Spock said, "however, I do not believe that you have asked the question that you originally planned to ask me."

"I haven't," Jim said. "Um, so you don't have a date- plus one, you don't have a plus one- and I was wondering if you would maybe be mine? Not like as an official plus one because you're invited anyways, but like as a partner because it would be weird if I didn't show up with a partner, and I've already said that but-"

"Yes."

Jim was taken aback for a moment and stumbled over his own feet before jogging to catch up with Spock. Had Spock seriously agreed?

"Yes?" He asked.

"Yes," Spock said. "I will attend the party with you."

"Excellent," Jim said. "Awesome."

"I am needed in the labs, but I must collect something from my quarters first," Spock said once they reached their rooms.

"Yeah, okay," Jim said, still reeling from the fact that Spock had accepted his offer.

"Good evening, Jim," Spock said.

"Yeah, you too," Jim said to the closed door that Spock had disappeared through.

Jim wandered into his own room almost in a daze, and leaned back heavily against the wall. He could feel a wide grin begin to spread over his face, and he buried his head in his hands. The fluttery feeling in his stomach was still present and strong.

_Stars, Jim,_ he told himself. _Get a grip._

* * *

Spock and Jim spent a good deal of the party talking about their shared love of Shakespeare and other authors in between grabbing more of the delicious wine. It turned out that while Spock enjoyed Shakespeare, Henry David Thoreau, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, he didn't like Charles Dickens or Edgar Allan Poe. It also turned out that something in the wine was, in fact, able to get Vulcans tipsy.

The song that had been playing came to an end, but instead of beginning a new song, one of the orchestra members grabbed a microphone and addressed the crowd. She was a beautiful young woman, dark skin and long legs that her black dress only accentuated. On any other occasion, Jim would've tried to flirt with her.

"Four minutes until midnight," she said, "for those of you who would like to find a partner to kiss."

Jim's stomach almost mutinied with butterflies, and Jim took a large sip of his wine to try to calm it down. Spock, bless his heart, looked confused. He looked over at Jim, and his lips were parted just slightly in a way that made physically ache with the desire to kiss him. He tightened his grip on his wine glass when his hand started to shake.

"Is there a human tradition involving midnight and kissing?" Spock asked.

"Uh," Jim said elegantly. "Um. Yes. Yeah. There is. See, the tradition is to kiss your date or spouse or something when the clock chimes midnight. I know, uh, I mean you don't have to if you don't want to, of course. I understand the whole touching dislike and, you know, we're not even really dating."

Spock didn't reply, and Jim took another sip of his wine. He turned his gaze to the windows that looked out at the city and resisted the urge to down the rest of his wine in one massive gulp.

"I've got something to tell you," Jim blurted before his mind could filter his mouth.

_Shit,_ he thought desperately. _Shit, shit, shit. Oh my stars._

"I am listening," Spock said, pulling Jim out of his panicked state.

Spock looked entirely unruffled. He would, of course, since he didn't know what Jim was going to ask. In the chandelier lights, wearing that suit and holding a glass of wine, Spock looked like a model out of a high end suit magazine, only hotter than any model Jim had ever seen.

"Why don't we go on to one of the balconies?" Jim suggested.

Spock inclined his head in acquiescence, and Jim began to walk towards the closest door to a balcony. Thankfully, the first one they examined was unoccupied. Jim shut the door most of the way, relishing the feel of the cold night air. Spock seemed relatively unaffected so far, but Jim knew that he'd have to be brief. He set his glass of wine down on the balcony railing and took a deep breath.

"I..." he began, but couldn't seem to find the words to finish his sentence. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"Jim?" Spock asked. "Are you well?"

"I guess," Jim said. "Sure. So, we're friends, right?"

"We are," Spock said, sounding confused. "Do you wish us not to be?"

"No!" Jim nearly shouted, heart seeming to skip a beat. "No, definitely not."

"Then-"

"I want us to be more than that." Jim said quickly. "I... I want you as more than a best friend, Spock." He swallowed hard, pressing shaking hands flat against his legs to try and control them. "Do you understand?"

"I believe I do," Spock said. "You want to enter into an exclusive romantic and sexual relationship with me?"

For a moment, Jim could do nothing but stand and stare at Spock, blinking. He eventually collected himself enough to speak.

"That's, uh, that's not exactly how I would phrase it, but yes. Yeah. That's what I want."

Jim honestly thought he might pass out. He was shaking and nauseous, heart thundering so loudly in his chest that he was paranoid that Spock could hear it. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe normally, and the longer the Spock seemed to take to answer, the worse Jim got.

"I would find that solution most agreeable."

"You would?" Jim said, feeling so massively relieved that he was dizzy for a moment. "You- really?"

"Were you expecting me to say no?" Spock's tone seemed to hover somewhere between confused and amused.

"No," Jim said. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll get back to you on that."

Inside, an excited murmur started up. Jim shot Spock a grin and retrieved his wine glass, then held out a hand. Spock tentatively reached out and took it.

"Countdown," Jim said. "Let's go inside."

The warmth was welcome upon their return to the hall. Nobody seemed to pay them any mind, all too busy counting. Jim thought he spotted Chekov and Carol Marcus in the crowd, as well as Sulu and Ben. He turned to Spock with a soft smile.

"Four," he said. "Three. Two. One."

Jim leaned in and pressed his mouth to Spock's, gentle and inquisitive. Spock responded eagerly, bringing a hand up to cradle Jim's chin. Spock's other hand was clasped in Jim's, and Jim gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Happy New Year!" The entire room seemed to chorus.

When they broke their kiss, Spock's eyes were dark. Jim felt a little more drunk under the intense stare, and cracked a grin, pressing another quick kiss to Spock's lips.

"Do... do you want to go back to my room?" Jim asked, their lips only millimeters apart.

"I could think of nothing that I would enjoy more at this juncture," Spock murmured.

Jim gripped his hand tighter and tugged him towards the door.

* * *

When he asked Uhura to go suit shopping with him, she hadn't immediately answered. She'd blinked at him over the top of her glass, which contained real wine now that they were back on Earth, set the glass down, and then blinked some more.

"I'm sorry?" She finally said.

"Suit shopping," Jim repeated. "I kind of need a suit for this party."

"I'm aware," Uhura said. "But why me?"

"Because you know Spock," Jim explained. "And you'll probably be able to tell me if I try to pick a suit that he'd hate."

"Your crush is pathetic," Uhura stated.

Jim chose to ignore that and set down his fork, placing both hands on the table. He leaned forward and looked her in the eyes, unsurprised to find humor there.

"Uhura," Jim said. "Please."

"Fine, fine, I'll go," Uhura said. "After lunch?"

"As soon as possible, yes. This thing is tomorrow."

"I'm going to regret this." Uhura said, sighing heavily and taking a sip of her wine.

"Maybe, but please help me anyways."

Four hours after that conversation, Jim was pretty sure that Uhura wanted to murder him. He had dragged her to multiple malls and multiple stores within said malls to try on dozens of suits. Each one so far had been given a 'meh' or a 'no' reaction from Uhura.

"You owe me dinner, now," Uhura hollered. "I'm starving thanks to running around all these malls with you."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Jim called back.

In the changing stall, Jim tugged on the bottom of his jacket. He wore a sky blue suit that he thought brought out his eyes, buttoned securely over a crisp white dress shirt. Jim thought he looked pretty damn good, but he'd thought that several times before, and Uhura hadn't agreed.

"How about this one?" Jim asked, unlocking the door and stepping out.

He turned in place to allow Uhura to see the entire suit. When he completed a full 360, Uhura seemed to still be in contemplation. Her arms were crossed, brows furrowed almost threateningly. Jim felt more exposed than he had when she'd shooed him out of her room in his underwear after catching him with Gaila the night before his third Kobayashi Maru, and _that_ was saying something. There had been a lot of people out and about that night to witness his walk of shame until he'd had the idea of putting his clothes back on.

"You look hot," she finally said, and Jim gaped at her. "Spock will definitely like it. If I wasn't in a relationship with someone else, you weren't pining after my ex-boyfriend, and you weren't, well, you, I'd probably be ten seconds from jumping you."

"I don't know how to respond to that," Jim said. "Thanks for helping me find a suit Spock will like? I'm offended that you wouldn't ever consider having sex with me? I'm glad that if you would ever consider having sex with me, you'd be close to jumping me?"

"I don't expect you to respond," Uhura said. "I expect you to buy the suit, buy me dinner, and then actually confess your crush to Spock in the hopes that he's the one who takes that suit off of you."

Jim couldn't help but visualize that thought, which was incredibly unhelpful. However, any arousal was quickly smothered by shock and embarrassment. More embarrassment, because this was Spock's former girlfriend.

"Uhura," Jim said. _"Uhura._ Oh my stars. You do not just casually talk about your boyfriend-"

"Ex-boyfriend."

"Yes, ex-boyfriend, whatever- You do not just casually talk about him _taking off my clothing."_

"Well that's your hope, right?"

"Yes," Jim muttered. "But that doesn't mean that you have to discuss it so casually in a public place."

"This is what happens when I'm hungry," Uhura said, sounding very matter-of-fact. "So if you want me to shut up you're going to have to feed me. After you buy that suit."

Jim shook his head, in wonder of the females of his species, and returned to the dressing room to take off the suit. Was it common among women to not care at all about public propriety when they got hungry? Or was it specifically Uhura? Or maybe it was specifically because Jim had dragged Uhura out shopping with him. Whatever the case, Jim would probably never get a straight answer from her.

He sighed and shrugged out of his jacket.

* * *

"Spock," Jim murmured once they were back in his room. "I've gotta, like, wash my face to sober myself up. I'm drunk."

"As am I," Spock replied, pressing kisses to the back of Jim's neck that made his knees go weak. His grip was secure around Jim, showing no intention of letting go. Jim sagged back against him for a moment, craning his neck and allowing Spock to nibble down the side of it.

"But I'm more drunk than you," Jim protested breathlessly.

Spock didn't reply, soothing trembling hands down Jim's sides. His hands reached the bottom of Jim's jacket and began to climb up underneath it, and the warmth that they exuded left Jim relying even more on Spock for support. He gasped softly when Spock nipped at his neck.

Jim eventually managed to get them to the bathroom, which included stumbling into several walls, as Spock refused to cooperate with him. When he turned and tried to set the wine glass that he'd nearly forgotten down on the edge of the bathtub, he misjudged the distance and the glass tipped over. The scarlet liquid spilled into the bathtub, glass shattering, and Jim almost giggled. Spock leaned in and kissed his cheek, then turned him fully around and kissed his mouth, which effectively chased away any stray thoughts.

"Spock," Jim murmured.

"Jim," Spock breathed, leaning in and claiming his mouth again. Jim found himself trapped between the counter and a very insistent Vulcan. Spock's mouth was hot, his slightly rougher tongue unfamiliar and heavenly against Jim's own.

"I've gotta-" Jim began when he broke away to breathe.

Spock didn't seem to care what Jim had to say, kissing him again. His hands were roaming, and when they approached Jim's shoulders they began to push at Jim's jacket. Jim released a shaky breath, hands tightening on Spock's waist.

"I guess I can deal with not being sober," Jim said, gasping as Spock tugged at Jim's earlobe with his teeth.

"Good," Spock murmured, returning his focus to Jim's mouth. His hands grew a little more insistent on Jim's shoulders, and Jim stepped forward to make the removal of his jacket easier. It soon enough found a home on the floor.

Spock seemed content enough to continue their activities in the bathroom, but Jim began to try and maneuver them towards the door and towards a bed. Spock was doing little more than chasing Jim's mouth, so Jim used his mouth as incentive for Spock to move. In the living room, pressed against the couch, Jim began to push at Spock's jacket.

"Off," he gasped, taking in oxygen after having been kissed so thoroughly. Spock shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the couch, and Jim's heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of Spock. His shirt was rumpled, jacket gone, hair ruffled, and lips kiss-puffed. He was beautiful. Spock must've seen something in his eyes, because he grabbed Jim's arm.

"Bed," Spock murmured, eyes flashing.

"Bed," Jim repeated in agreement, and led him to the bedroom by his hand.

Spock nearly pounced on him once they were close enough to the bed, pinning Jim underneath him. Jim groaned at the friction against his cock, head tilting backwards. Spock took that as an invitation to kiss wetly down his neck until he came to the first button of Jim's shirt. He almost growled, hands leaving Jim's to neatly and quickly undo all of the buttons on Jim's shirt.

Jim had the reflexes necessary to pull his arms out of his shirt and toss it off to the side before Spock was on him again, kissing down his chest. He licked at Jim's nipples as he journeyed before taking one between his teeth, which had Jim moaning loudly above him and fisting hands in Spock's hair.

"Spock," Jim gasped. "Spock, please."

He tugged gently and Spock rose up to kiss him once more, trembling finely. His kisses were almost frantic as he attempted to restrain himself. They locked eyes in a pause between kisses, and Jim was amazed at how Spock's pupils were blown with lust until they had nearly eclipsed the familiar brown.

"Undo your shirt," Jim said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to Spock's flushed lips. "If you want to fuck me, we've gotta get undressed."

Spock let out a low moan that did all sorts of things to Jim's groin and kissed Jim hard once before pulling back and beginning to unbutton his own shirt, straddling Jim's lap. They worked quickly and in silence to undress themselves, and as soon as Jim was stripped Spock was on him again, pinning him down. Their hands were clasped together by Jim's head, and when Jim squeezed, Spock shuddered above him.

"Lubrication," Spock muttered, before sucking a hickey into Jim's neck. Jim groaned, wrapping a leg around Spock's to keep him from moving. "Where...?"

"Top drawer," Jim said, strained.

Spock was back within a moment, and the pop of a cap send arousal shooting through Jim's body. He took a long, shuddering breath as his legs fell apart, and he twisted his hands in the sheets. When Spock's finger, cold and slick with lube, prodded teasingly at his hole, Jim groaned and let his legs fall even farther apart.

"Spock," he murmured into Spock's mouth, one hand tangled in his soft hair and the other plastered against his back. "Please, Spock, pl-" He broke off with a strangled moan as Spock pushed his first finger in.

Spock kept the pace relatively slow, no matter how Jim begged or sobbed or pleaded, writhing underneath him. Theirs was a slow, powerful coupling, not even something that Jim would title sex, entirely deserving of the title 'love making.' Despite their drunkenness and the desperation that built in Jim's chest, Spock hardly increased his pace. While Jim was loud, Spock was less so, but no less passionate. He seemed to tremble with want and need, shaky breaths gusting over Jim's face.

At one point, Spock raised a hand to the side of Jim's face, fingers ghosting over certain places on Jim's face that he was well aware of the significance of. Jim nodded desperately, almost unable to form words. Spock's fingers latched on to Jim's face an

_d they're no longer two separate entities. No loner Jim and Spock but Jim-and-Spock, and Jim feels like he's dying and being born and exploding all at once. It's a new beginning, somewhere between them, and it feels like a supernova made of a summer's day that washes over him._

_He can sense Spock, a beautiful green and blue and red in the corner of his vision, nothing more than a kaleidoscope when he tries to focus. A hot, blistering feeling of lust washes over him, and Jim shivers in this mental place. For a moment, Jim understands exactly why Vulcans are so scared of their emotions._

_He can feel their bodies, both of them as if they are all one. Spock is slowly driving into him, over and over but Jim's also the one driving into a warm, pliant body beneath him. There are firm hands on his shoulders and his hands are tight on someone else's shoulders, and it's the most dizzying, beautiful thing. Electricity crackles across and between them as one reaches the brink of orgasm and wh_

en Jim tipped over the edge, he sobbed his relief, body tensing around Spock and nails digging into his shoulder blades. Spock followed soon after, letting out the most beautiful sound that Jim had ever heard. Their mouths were pressed together, and Spock finally moved his so that his mouth was positioned right next to Jim's ear.

"James," he murmured, sounding awed. "Jim, my t'hy'la, k'diwa."

"I'm here, Spock," Jim whispered, head still foggy and disoriented in the most wonderful way possible. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

* * *

The next morning, Jim's eyes slid open to soft morning light shining through the curtains. He felt lethargic, and contented, and well-fucked, with not much more than a headache to remember his drunkenness by, and he had to fight to keep his eyes open in the comfortable bed. Once he realized where he was, his attention shifted to the warm body laying next to him.

Spock was still asleep, laying on his side facing Jim. His hair was mussed, plump lips parted slightly in sleep. One of his hands rested mere millimeters from Jim's skin, and Jim raised one of his hands to cover it. Spock inhaled a deeper breath than normal, and then his eyes fluttered open, immediately focusing on Jim, who smiled.

"Hey, lover boy," he said quietly, leaning in to kiss Spock. "Welcome to 2265."

"Indeed," Spock replied in a rough morning voice. Jim felt himself melt a little bit.

"Beautiful," Jim murmured, and then voiced a question. "I feel something in my head. Did you put it there?"

"I..." Spock ducked his head. "I must confess that during our meld last night, I was unable to stop a bond from being formed. It was not my intention. I apolo-"

"Spock, no," Jim said, raising a hand to the side of Spock's face. It was warm under Jim's skin, like the rest of the Vulcan. "Sweetheart, there's no need to apologize. I'd love nothing more than to be bonded to you."

Spock raised his face again to meet Jim's eyes. The guilt was fading, replaced by confusion. Jim wanted to kiss him until the only thing in his eyes was happiness, and he tried to shove that thought in Spock's direction. If the growing affection in Spock's eyes was any indication, Jim had succeeded.

"Truly?" Spock murmured.

"Truly. It feels like... like a cool pond in the back of my mind, and when you-" A warm swell of affection arose in the back of Jim's mind. "That, when you do that thing you just did- I can feel it and it's beautiful, Spock. It's you."

"Jim," Spock said, sounding rather helpless.

"What does it feel like to you?" Jim asked, leaning in to kiss Spock, morning breath be damned.

"It is like a... a golden tattoo." Spock said hesitantly, as if he were uncertain that his words were the best possible ones for the situation. "It is bright, and glowing, and intricate, and it is you, Jim. It is your mark, telling all that I belong to you and no other."

Jim had no words with which to respond to that, and so he didn't. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Spock for all he was worth, hoping that his clumsy efforts to push what he was feeling towards Spock would be enough.

A beeping PADD disrupted their kiss, and Jim pulled away with a groan to see what it was. It turned out to be a message from Uhura, and Jim was almost hesitant to open it.

_Please tell me that Spock got you out of that suit last night. I saw you two leaving. Holding hands? Damn._

Jim burst out laughing and rolled onto his back, still holding the PADD. Spock sidled up next to Jim, leaning in to read Jim's PADD.

"Why would Nyota message you that?" Spock asked, sounding scandalized.

"Because she's the one who helped me go suit shopping," Jim said. "I kind of bought the suit with the intention of having you take it off of me."

"It seems that you succeeded," Spock said, pressing kisses to Jim's neck.

Jim tossed his PADD back onto the nightstand and rolled over to cover Spock's face in kisses. His temple, cheekbones, and the bridge of his nose all received special attention. Jim finally laid a kiss on Spock's lips, who let out a small sound.

"It seems that I did," Jim replied when he finally pulled away, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been working on this for over a month, and I'm so glad to finally share this with you all! I hope you guys enjoy it, and have a very happy 2018!


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